On money. and life.

On top of the non-stop pitter-patter of rain outside my balcony, I come across not one, not two but three pieces of really sad, depressing news. It’s no wonder people stop reading the news, and start focusing on pictures of food instead. Because the real world is really not pretty at all.

I feel sad. Sad, that I am but the tiniest speck on this planet, worrying about where to stay in South Africa next year, when I come across news on student trafficking, the expose by R.Age. The deplorable living conditions were just heartbreaking to say the least. I felt a raw sense of anger and guilt to be a Malaysian, the very nation that conned these innocent students and robbed them of their life savings by promising them education in my home country. Education! The very word itself is supposed to hold a shiny, glowing promise of a better life, now tainted with bitter taste of deceit.

And then there was the news about the couple in Singapore, who took an intellectually challenged friend in, only to abuse her, psychologically and physically for 8 months till the day she died. That is wrong on so many levels. I really don’t know if there really is grace in this world.

And finally, a bit of news about an old friend, suffering from a medical condition for most of her life. She battles tumour after tumour, and writes books and speaks at events to raise money to fund her surgeries in the states. She’s a fighter, and I don’t know why it took me so so so long to make a contribution. That made me feel guilty too. Sad and guilty, that I can only donate so much, because my human instinct is to save money for myself, for my hobbies, my interests, my life. It’s the basic instinct of survival, but so so so selfish on so many levels too.

I feel sad. That I can only offer so little, almost pointless in the grand scheme of things.